This appears to be the last place I’m mentioning this, where it should really be the first, but I wanted to use it as a platform for thanking folk as well and I wasn’t at home when I posted on Facebook earlier in the day, so couldn’t remember every name.

This marks my first full professional sale (by SFWA standards at least), and ChiZine is an awesome online zine backed up by an independent book publishing arm. They publish the kind of dark, weird, horror-ish stuff that I like and it’s the perfect home for this story.

Another overcast Sunday afternoon, with the sky the colour of dissolved aspirin and I’m counting the snowdrops in the garden from my bay window. Eight, and one stunted-looking one. I’d thought about giving them names, but will only be sad when they inevitably shrivel up and wilt.

There are a number of light, impermanent things occurring today – along with the snowdrops, the daylight will fade in about three hours time; the honey and sunflower bread baking in the kitchen, will undoubtedly disappear before the end of the day; my cat’s attention span as he focuses with killer instinct on the garden birds flitting about in the drizzle, and then becomes more concerned with cleaning his tail.

It’s the nature of things, I suppose, and it’s hard not to imbue the scene with a sense of melancholy, but all things fade, and then new things come along and replace them. Ho Hum. And after I’ve tapped out this mini-improvisation on the impermanence of life and I have to concentrate on critiquing a friend’s short story and then revise ‘Great Junction Street‘ for the final time and begin the investigation where to submit a grim urban horror story full of coarse Edinburgh dialect.

In an effort to regenerate the atrophied writing muscles, I’ve been attempting to instigate a routine. Evenings are when I write. I do attempt it at the weekends, but it doesn’t always work – my brain is often on standby and only clicks on the night before the work week recommences.

Amongst various things, I’ve started recording my dreams again (well, actually recording them would be awesome if a little scary… okay, very scary and I’d be locked up in dark, dark place…). Trying to access that area of the subconscious which has been such a rich mine of imagery and ideas. And with a dream journal of about 200 dreams going back to 1989, it would seem a good project to continue. And the process of continually accessing the dream memory makes the ensuing dreams more vivid, and increases the occurrence of lucid dreaming – all of which leads towards a potentially BIG writing project I’ve been scheming over for years now – codenamed The Circles. some *actual words* exist for it, and a slowly developing plot and pool of characters. Heck, I even nailed a decent structure for it. Just need to sort the role of the elusive Piano Jim and things will fall into place.

Other aspects of the evening routine involve at least one review/crit of a fellow writer’s work (and I’m never short of contenders with a review list that grows and grows…) and some revision of the box of un-submitted shorts. I’ve decided to work backwards on that one – beginning with my most recently written piece “Unpicking the Stitches” and end up back at the oldest ones. Should have a working middle draft for ‘Stitches’ in a couple of days.

No room for new fiction yet, but the ideas are rising up like the tips of the snowdrops I saw on the way to work this morning. One SF idea without a solid title, but with extensive notes; “Blank Canvas”, the living artwork story inspired by Tommy McHugh; “Circles” and the bones of another novel idea.

Reading “Transition” by Iain Banks at the moment, with Interzone 232 waiting in the wings, afterarriving on my doormat today.

Editing Saint Stephen Street once more for re-submission. Lots of rewrites. Very painful but worthwhile process, especially if this particular magazine that is considering it finally accepts it for publication.

Editing this much reminds me of any attempt I made at sculpting with clay – usually in art class at school. I could never quite leave a sculpture alone once I reached a point where it resembled something. Usually it was a head, with bizarrely distended features – eyes too far up and chin too pointy. But I couldn’t leave it alone and would do something like decide to remodel the nose because I wasn’t quite happy with it, but the clay would never quite work the same and all I could see were the joins and the lumpy bits with a kind of unnatural focus that doesn’t exist when looking at other people’s work.

Feeling a little the same about this story. Moving scenes and sequences around – remodelling them so as they fit together in different ways, but I’ve toyed with it so much that I can’t see it objectively any more.

All I can see are the lumpy bits. Can’t focus on the big picture. Cross fingers. Hit send.

Some good news this evening. The Ranfurly Review, a Scottish literary journal, will be publishing my story ‘Woe is Me’ in their March 2010 issue. It’s the first story that I’ve used crits from the Online Writing Workshop to improve that I’ve had published.

I’m quite happy to get this one out there after seven rejections. I was considering a huge rewrite if it was rejected again.

Not quite there yet, but the ’embers’ are almost upon us. All the signs are there – wind and rain; shorter days; the hint of a cold at the back of my throat.

Making progress on my other main project of the year other than the novel – The Streets of Edinburgh. Which is a working title for the collection. He says, speaking of potential short story collections before even a single one of them is published. Saying that, I have some serious interest in Saint Stephen Street from a good zine, but they are only interested in seeing a shorter version now. So I am undertaking the painful process of chopping it up like so much fatty meat into a tender, lean steak that I pray they will find tasty enough to put on the menu (end of metaphor… deep breath).

I have written a completed first draft of Castle Street – my first foray into a form of contempary fantasy (although one reviewer quite astutely pointed out that it is an allegory for addiction). I am about halfway through Great Junction Street – which will lean more towards horror and explore the seedier, unpleasant side to the city.

Once I finish that, I can no longer delay the novel redraft. It’s been too long already so I need to launch into it. Once I start I’ll update the progress on here in a more regularly posted work-journal sort of thing. For my own benefit as much as anyone who might be interested in such things.

Back from the serenity of the Western Highlands, but still on holiday and trying to get a load of writing work done before the return to the dayjob. I’ve re-subbed three stories that were rejected in the last two weeks, so I have four out there under consideration. One of them has been out there quite a while with a notable SF zine – far longer than a previous sub to them. Fingers crossed as always.

Still to do: – many critiques to catch up on at the Online Writing Workshop. Four stories to redraft and make ready for submission a.s.a.p. The (dare I mention it) novel to get cracking on the second draft. And a new story in the pipeline which is taking shape nicely.

Thought I should at least post an update to keep this blog on the radar. It is deep summer and Edinburgh is remarkably hot. Everything seems to have slowed down. I recently completed a 9,369 word story. My longest short story so far, and it is in a raw state, but I’m happy with it. Receiving mixed reviews on the workshop for it currently, but that’s fair enough. Differing perspectives are helpful. Mostly it’s been well-received, though, and you want to at least hear a little bit of that. The aim is for the thing to be enjoyed after all, but good, useful critique is invaluable.

No news on submissions for a while, although I have a couple of query dates approaching with some long-standing submissions. Only 4 away at the moment, but they are all at good markets. 3 of the 4 are pro publications, and the other is a pro publication as far as I am concerned, even if they don’t have pro rates. Would be dancing on the moon if I get any of these accepted.

Next… a multitude of ideas and, of course, the novel (which read well – phew!) which needs a thorough think and a second draft. Got and idea for some flash fiction – something in a surreal horror vein, and then there is the linked Edinburgh street stories, for which I have five fully-formed ideas in existence.

In other words, a third of the year gone, and here’s an update on writing progress so far this year.

Still just the two new publication credits from the start of the year, although was nice to see my story on The Harrow, and Dark Tales 13 out finally. Hit a bit of wall recently on one story which I have drawn a veil over for the moment after various attempts and rewrites. Trying something else at the moment until I have the strength to attempt an ending. Will start the second draft on the book imminently (no really, I will do it, I’m not procrastinating at all), but it is a huge undertaking and I’m slightly concerned at the commitment of time it will take.

Submissions: rolling along with the usual frequency. Four out there at the moment and two stories under review at the Online Writing Workshop that I will revise and send out again very soon. Should hear from at least one of those submissions in the next week, and one other by the end of May hopefully. The other two might be away until July before I hear anything. One I have high hopes for, but not so high that their sudden plunge to the ground will kill me.

Speaking of the Online Writing Workshop, I have been trying to take an active role there, reviewing as much as possible to make good critting contacts. It is proving to be a valuable involvement and the range of reviews is extremely helpful.

So it’s halfway through March already and I’m starting to get that breathless panic that comes when you see the year rushing past your ears and don’t feel like you’re achieving enough. That said, I have to be happy with what I’ve done so far: 2 story acceptances; completed first draft of a novel; just completed first draft of a new short story. There is only so much you can do at weekends and between the hours of 9 and 11pm without your eyes bursting.

I’m fairly pleased with the new short. This one will go to Catastrophia if I can get it moulded into shape in time. I’ve been using the Online Writing Workshop to get some good independent critique and it appears to be a rather useful place to be. The latest short recieved some good reviews, better than I would have imagined and along with it some excellent advice for improving it. I am slowly learning the advantages of making connections with the right people and getting the opportunity to practice the art of critique. It can only help me improve, I’m sure.